Dinner Date
by charlotte.natalie
Summary: No matter your age, a first date is still cause for butterflies.


Dinner Date

Dinner Date

Relieved to find no one else in the restroom, she walked into the corner stall, locking the door behind her. Though she had no intention of using the bathroom, she squatted down over the seat anyway and began digging through her bag, searching for her cell phone. Flipping it open, she hit the speed dial button and held her phone up to her ear, hearing the familiar ring as her call connected.

A ring and a half later, the second person picked up. "Norah Adams," she said, speaking in a louder tone then usual to combat the sound of wind rushing by as she drove.

"Norah, it's Eve," the woman responded, her voice echoing off the walls of the restroom.

"Eve, what's wrong? Why are you echoing? Is everything all right," Norah asked, the concern in her voice rising with each question.

Eve managed a nervous laugh. "Nothing's wrong, Norah. I just…I need some love advice."

Norah nearly rear-ended the car in front of her. It wasn't like Eve to ask for advice on anything, let alone love. In fact, the most input Norah really remembered having concerning Eve and her husband was being the tie-breaker over the color of bridesmaids' dresses when the vote was tied. Even after Charlie's death three years ago, Eve hadn't come to her too often for advice, choosing instead to maintain their relationship as best friends, not pseudo therapist and patient.

It was surprisingly easy for Norah to mask the shock in her voice. "Okay, hon, give me all the details."

"Well, I was at the grocery store tonight…"

"Uh huh."

"And, apparently, my favorite granola bars were moved up to the top shelf."

Norah nodded, knowing the frustration her 5'4" friend felt when she couldn't easily reach something. "Okay, tell me more," she encouraged.

"Well, this tall man, maybe 6'1", came up behind me and offered to get them down for me. His name is John; he's a detective. Anyway, we started talking, and well, he's invited me to dinner."

"When?"

"Tonight."

"Tonight?! Eve, that's terrific. Where are you going? When are you going…" Norah cut her string of questions was cut short when she realized Eve hadn't answered any of them.

"Eve, you still there?"

"Norah," Eve paused and took a deep breath. "I'm just not sure I can do this."

On the other side of the wall, detective John Munch paced the over-waxed mosaic tile, smiling politely at people passing him by. On the inside, though, he was wondering if the leftover take-out in his fridge would still be edible. He didn't plan to serve them to the woman he had asked to dinner, but the longer Eve spent in the restroom, the greater his odds became that he was having dinner alone, again.

He couldn't figure out what exactly had been going through his mind earlier that night. It wasn't like him at all to be so forward about dating, but all of his past experience went out the window as he wandered through the cereal aisle.

Flashback

_Even though his breakfast usually only consisted of a few cups of coffee, John couldn't resist going down the cereal aisle while out grocery shopping. Every so often, he opted to pick a box of a childhood favorite as a midnight snack or to chuckle quietly as a child tried to make his or her case for a box of pure sugar to a parent trying to make a nutritious choice._

Tonight, though, he had tunnel vision. He was only aware of the woman trying unsuccessfully to knock a box of granola bars of the top shelf with her purse. He abandoned his empty cart and walked up next to her. She gave him a sheepish smile as he easily reached above her head and snatched up the box.

As he handed the box to her, she gave him a half embarrassed half relieved smile, which he almost shyly returned. "Thank you…uh…"

"John. John Munch."

"Thank you John, John Munch."

They fell silent, but instead of walking away from each other like most people do, they maintained eye contact and shy smiles. Finally, John opted to break the ice again. "What do you say we finish this grocery shopping trip together? I don't see any reason why your purse should continue to take abuse when I can easily grab stuff for you."

As he watched the woman's facial expressions change rapidly, he seriously began to wonder if he really was a man in his 50s or a teenager asking a girl on a date. It all sounded so…wrong. Everyday, taller people helped shorter people grab things, but then _they went on with their own lives and duties. They didn't follow the person they had helped._

Damn, he really had blown it this time. She was attractive to boot, which made his screw-up hurt all the more. She wasn't the type of woman John had gotten used to seeing in the grocery store. She lacked the lounge pants, hoodies, and old flip flops other women seemed to consider an appropriate grocery store uniform. Instead, she was dressed casually but chicly in a pair of dark blue jeans and a dark red sweater. A black pea coat and black ballet flats finished her look. She wore her red hair in a braid and her make-up was not creepy at all, unlike other women he often encountered.

John was so busy criticizing his attempt at a date, he didn't hear exactly what the woman had said. He decided that the best move right now would be to continue his shopping and pretend that the situation never happened. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I was too forward. Have a nice night," he said regretfully as he began walking away.

At the sound of his name, he turned around to find the woman hurrying toward him with her cart and a smile. "John, I'm not sure you heard what I said. I told you I'd like that," she said, slowing down as she reached his side and they fell into step together, leisurely heading down the canned good aisle.  
  
End Flashback

Eve checked her fly once more before opening the bathroom door. Her conversation with Norah had left her much more relaxed about the date and she was ready. She spotted John examining the employee of the month board and walked up behind him. "John," she said. "All ready to go?"

He turned around and smiled at her. "Ready if you are, babe."

She giggled as he blushed at his second poorly pharsed comment of the day as they walked, hand in hand, out of the store and into the cold night.


End file.
